


Midnight Mario Kart

by karcathy



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, also i'm turning into someone who just writes hammertime i'm so, i kind of have an insomniac!dave headcanon, what if i become the hammertime writer, what if i just write hammertime forever, what if no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 23:19:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karcathy/pseuds/karcathy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave can't sleep, and decides John shouldn't either. Mario Kart is the only obvious course of action.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Mario Kart

“John,” Dave says, shaking your shoulder, “John, wake up.”

Groaning, you sit up, rubbing your eyes, and reach for your glasses. You put them on and glance at the alarm clock on your bedside table.

“Dave, it’s 3am,” you say, flopping back onto your pillow and flinging an arm over your face, “What do you want?”

“I want to play Mario Kart.”

Slowly, you move your arm off of your face, and stare incredulously at your moron of a boyfriend. You can just about make out his face in the dim light, and you see that, for once, he’s not wearing his sunglasses.

“You cannot be serious,” you say.

“I’m deadly serious,” he replies, and he looks it, “I’m always serious about Mario Kart.”

“Why the sudden need to play Mario Kart in the middle of the night?”

“3am isn’t the middle of the night,” he says, looking defensive.

You pull yourself up into a sitting position, and stare at him in silence for a moment.

“Can’t sleep again, eh?” you ask quietly.

He pretends not to hear, but gives you a slightly desperate look.

“Fine,” you say, sighing and swinging your legs out of bed, “I’ll play Mario Kart with you.”

“You’re the best,” he says.

He leans over and plants a kiss on your forehead, making you blush slightly. You’re glad the room is dark, or he’d be teasing you so much right now, it makes you blush more to even think about it.

“Argh,” you say, covering your eyes again as he flips the light switch on, temporarily blinding you.

“Sorry,” he says.

“You could warn me, you know,” you say, squinting at him and waiting for your eyes to adjust to the light.

He just shrugs, and you notice he’s put his sunglasses on.

“Hmmph,” you say, opening your eyes properly, although the light still hurts, “It’s all right for some.”

“Come on,” he says, flicking on the living room light, “Mario Kart is waiting.”

“You set it up,” you say, getting up and stumbling slightly, thinking you’re far too tired for this, “I’m going to get a glass of water.”

You fumble your way to the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the lights, and take a glass from the draining board. You fill it from the tap, stopping when it overflows, and drink, splashing some of it onto your face in an attempt to wake yourself up. This is ridiculous, you think. Why am I getting up to play Mario Kart with my insomniac boyfriend at three in the morning?

 

You return to the living room to find Dave waiting impatiently, Mario Kart all set up and ready to go. Sitting down, you pick Princess Peach, just because you know it’ll make Dave roll his eyes at you.

“Dude, Peach is the _worst_ ,” he says, picking Waluigi, “You’re going to lose so badly.”

“I’m going to destroy you,” you reply, “You’re dead meat.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says, picking Moo Moo Meadows.

“Oh come on, are you serious?” you ask, pulling a face, “Moo Moo Meadows is so _lame_.”

“Let’s see how you feel about it after I’ve creamed your ass on it.”

“That was the most erotic Mario Kart-related sentence I’ve ever heard,” you say, as you expertly pull off a perfect start, going straight into second place, just behind Wario.

Behind you, Dave has started in sixth after fumbling his start.

“There’s a whole lot more where that came from,” he says, overtaking Mario and carefully avoiding the banana skin you just dropped.

You’re about to reply, but end up swearing profusely as you drive into a cow.

“Haha, sucker,” Dave says, overtaking you and sliding smoothly into first place.

“I hate you,” you say, jabbing him with your elbow, to no effect.

“Whoa, easy on the foul play,” he says, nudging you back and making you drive off of the track, “Hey, you’re really bad at Mario Kart.”

“Shut up,” you say, swearing as you go into eighth place, “It’s three in the morning, I’m too tired for Mario Kart.”

“And yet, I’m playing perfectly,” he says, smug in first place.

You stay quiet for a moment, concentrating on hitting a question box, and grin when you get a blue shell.

“Not for long,” you say, smirking and sending it off.

“What are you so- son of a bitch!” he throws the controller down on the floor, glaring at you.

“Still sure I’m terrible?” you ask, moving up into third place, and overtaking Dave in fourth.

“That was just cruel,” he says, shaking his head and picking the controller back up, “How could you do this to me? I thought you loved me.”

“This is Mario Kart. All bets are off,” you reply, ignoring the way your stomach backflips as he says the word ‘love’, “There is no love in Mario Kart, only hatred.”

“It’s a cruel world,” he says, somehow managing to hit you with a green shell.

“Bastard.”

You bite your lower lip, carefully navigating the bends, and manage to get into second place. Dave is in first, and you wonder how much time he’s spent practising this game. You think it’s probably far more than is healthy.

“Come on,” you mutter, as you start the last lap in second place, still just behind Dave, “Come on, come on, come on.”

You’re entirely focused on the game now, determined to win, and you completely ignore Dave, apart from to curse him under your breath. You’re biting your lip so hard it tears the skin, and you mutter a little “ouch” but don’t let it deter you. As you approach the finish line, Dave slows down and then comes to a complete stop, and you overtake him, laughing triumphantly as you finish in first.

“I won!” you say, grinning broadly and turning to gloat at Dave.

He’s just sitting there, trying to fight a smile off of his face and losing, his controller forgotten on the floor.

“What?” you ask, frowning in confusion.

“You’re really cute when you’re concentrating and you look all serious and you start biting your lip,” he explains, smiling properly now, “And you’re even cuter when I let you win and you know I let you but you still get excited.”

“I won fair and square,” you huff, and you smile, feeling pleased with yourself, as an idea forms in your mind, “The lip-biting ruse... was a DISTACTION.”

You both laugh, and you feel disproportionately proud of yourself.

“You dork,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Shut up,” you say, shoving him playfully, “Can we go back to bed now? I played Mario Kart with you. I want to sleep!”

You drag out the last word, giving him a pleading look.

“Hmm,” he says, looking thoughtful.

“Please?” you say, looking hopeful.

He pauses for a moment.

“All right,” he says, finally, a mischievous grin coming onto his face, “Come on, then.”

Leaving the lights, the Wii and the TV on, he grabs your hand and drags you to your bedroom.

“Da-ave, what are you doing?” you ask, as he pushes you onto the bed and discards his sunglasses on his bedside table.

“Shh,” he says, placing one finger on your lips and climbing into your lap, with his knees on either side of your hips.

“Dave, I’m tired,” you say, pouting, “I want to go to sleep.”

“Shh,” he repeats, placing his hands on your shoulders and gently pushing you onto your back.

“What are you doing?” you ask, rolling your eyes as he takes off your glasses, “Hey, I need those to see.”

He gets up to put them on your bedside table, and you lift your head slightly so you can see what he’s doing.

“Dave, stop being weird,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbows, “Go to bed.”

“Shh,” he says again, coming back over to you and pushing you back down onto the bed.

Sighing, you pull yourself backwards, so your legs are on the bed, and he follows you.

“Can’t we just-”

He cuts you off with a kiss, which you return, slipping one hand into his hair and placing the other on his lower back.

“Okay, okay, stop it,” you say, pulling away.

He kisses your neck a couple of times, then rolls off of you. Tugging the blankets out from underneath you, he rolls you onto your side and spoons you, pulling the covers over both of you. He shifts himself up so he can put his chin on top of your head, and slips one arm around your waist.

“I can live with this,” you say, a smile on your face.

“Mm, me to,” he replies, his voice slightly muffled by your hair.

 

You both fall asleep like that, and, for once, Dave is still asleep when you wake up. You smile as you watch him sleep, and think that you could put up with Mario Kart at 3am if it means he sleeps this soundly. You think you could put up with anything for that.  


End file.
